


waves

by soulofme



Series: sheith sentence prompts [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: JFC, LET ME STOP, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), cliff diving, shiro's got that summertime sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 00:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15158618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: Keith knew that he had Shiro wrapped around his little finger, and that he would do anything and everything for him, no begging required. It was dangerous, and Shiro still didn’t understand how he let one person own him so completely.





	waves

**Author's Note:**

> [sentence prompt](http://stefansalfatore.tumblr.com/post/144981395239/sentence-prompts) #36: i knew i’d find you here.

August brought forth the bittersweet tang that signaled the end of summer and the beginning of fall.

Shiro kicked a small pebble as he walked across the uneven terrain. Each step brought him closer to the roar of the waterfall, nestled among the pine trees. He could almost taste the water on his tongue, and imagined the cool slide of it down his throat.

The sight of black boots stopped him. A smile threatened to curl the corners of his lips upwards. There was only one person he knew who wore boots no matter the season or weather. Shiro abandoned his rock in pursuit of something far more entertaining and ducked under a tree branch that he’d hit his head on more times than he liked to admit.

Keith’s shirt and jeans were tossed carelessly in a pile, shoved by a huge rock. Shiro peered over the edge of the cliff and thought he saw a flash of dark hair and pale skin. But just as soon as he’d spotted him Keith was gone, melting away as if he’d been nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

Shiro’s gut twisted uncomfortably and he turned his head away, settling onto the rock beside Keith’s clothes. He sensed his presence before he actually saw him and watched as Keith started in surprise before relaxing.

“Shiro,” he greeted crisply, squeezing water out of his hair.

Shiro watched the stream travel down his collarbones—the planes of his chest and the sharp jut of his hips were also highlights—but darted his eyes away as he reached the thick band of Keith’s boxers.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he met Keith’s curious gaze. It took a considerable amount of effort, so much that he found himself flushing with embarrassment. Keith was oblivious, as usual, and simply crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t defensive, just comfortable, and Shiro felt his nerves settle slightly.

“Hey,” he smiled, wide and fake, and attempted to ignore the thunderous drumbeat of his heart in his ears. “I knew I’d find you here.”

“You were looking for me?” Keith asked, quirking a brow and shifting his weight to one side.

Shiro shrugged. No point in lying.

“Kinda.”

Keith hummed and rolled back and forth onto the tips of his toes. Shiro recognized the gesture instantly. He was wrought with anticipation, surely intent on hurling himself off of the cliff yet another time. Shiro knew from experience that Keith lacked any limits, particularly when the activities he immersed himself in were colored bright red with _danger._

Shiro didn’t understand the draw of cliff diving.

But he understood Keith, and he knew that Keith loved the rush of the wind in his ears and the feel of his body slicing through his water. He’d described more than once how fast his heart faced, how his blood rushed and roared in his veins.

Keith’s descriptions awakened a hunger in Shiro. Not to throw himself off of a cliff, but to see Keith in action. He liked how bright Keith’s eyes were afterwards, like someone had yanked stars out of the sky and bestowed him on the beautiful boy before him.

Shiro inwardly cringed at the particular line of thought. He hated when he let himself delve deep into fantasies such as that. Keith wasn’t his. But his heart and brain were in cahoots to assault Shiro with tantalizing thoughts and images of him at all hours of the day.

It was beyond exhausting.

“You should join me.” Keith’s smile was razor-sharp. He swung his arms back and forth, loosening his muscles, and Shiro forced his gaze down to his shoes.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Shiro asked, his light tone showing that he was joking. He looked up in time to catch Keith throwing his head back, laughing wild enough to be considered a cackle. The dying afternoon sun slanted through the trees, bathing Keith in a soft, orange glow.

“It’s never enough,” Keith’s voice was softer, filled with intent. He stepped towards Shiro and easily scooped one of his hands into his.

Shiro swallowed hard as Keith wove their fingers together and yanked him to his feet. He stumbled at the sudden change of position, more than aware of the mere inches separating them now.

“Are you scared?” Keith needled, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Terrified,” Shiro deadpanned. Or, attempted to. His voice wavered as he spoke, and he licked at the corner of his dry lips, willing himself to calm down.

“Don’t worry,” Keith started, voice low. He winked at Shiro and playfully nudged him. “I’ll hold your hand.”

He held up their joined hands for emphasis. A wave of heat rolled through Shiro, intense enough that he gritted his teeth at it.

“C’mon, Takashi.” Keith’s voice dripped like honey.

Shiro felt like it came to him through a thick haze. Keith knew that he had Shiro wrapped around his little finger, and that he would do anything and everything for him, no begging required. It was dangerous, and Shiro still didn’t understand how he let one person own him so completely.

But Keith wasn’t just anybody. He was Shiro’s best friend, the one person that supported him through everything. He was perfect in every way, even if he didn’t know it, and Shiro’s heart ached for him.

So he let Keith’s lithe fingers work at the buttons of his shirt. He choked out a laugh when Keith eyed him expectantly, stepping back to let Shiro wiggle out of his jeans. They stood on the mossy cliff, stripped down to nothing but their boxers, and looked down at the dark water below.

Shiro sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself. Keith was grinning, dark hair still dripping droplets down the sides of his face and down his neck. He turned to Shiro with a tilt of his head.

“Ready?” he asked.

Shiro reached for his hand automatically, pretending that it didn’t give him as much pain as it did pleasure. He felt Keith squeeze his palm and closed his eyes at the feeling.

“Ready,” he breathed, and Keith propelled them forward.


End file.
